A lost leader
by North of the North
Summary: Madeleine Williams has spent her whole life being told what to do. But, when faced with the idea of an adventure, she goes off. Leaving the scientists who study her in a mad dash to find her and contain her as soon as possible.
1. Chapter 1

Hi, my name is Madeleine Williams. I am what is known as a teenage amputee. It was from my parents' choice, of course but, I'm getting a bit ahead of myself there. Let me explain.

The simple matter of it is that everyone knows that you do way better in life if you have arms that are stronger, perfect in shape and know what to do in any situation. My parents thought it would be best to get my arms and legs early, before I could remember what real arms and legs felt like. Not that there is much of a difference except for that arms and legs can get tired. Prosthetic arms and legs don't, and I guess some people miss that. I wouldn't know, mine were cut off and replaced when I was two.

It's kind of hard to get around these days. Back when prosthetics were considered humanities latest innovative evolution; everyone was going around and getting them. Doctors had found a way to make domestically usable prosthetics so that it cost about as much as a meal. All you really have to pay for is the doctor's time; it's that easy to 'upgrade' yourself. Now the only ones that don't have them are just those that were die hard hippies, their children, and those too poor to pay for the $20 it cost to get them.

I bet those people are laughing at all of us now, though. The hippies had kicked up such a fuss about how it would be considered unfair of their children to be graded and evaluated, even given the same job as someone with prosthetics would be. Even though there are no prosthetics for the brain, just for the arms and legs and so the only advantage would be in gym but, the hippies didn't see it that way. We were now all out to show up their children in their eyes. Any time a protheticsized person would do something memorable, make an achievement with their lives, the hippies only grew more furious.

They sued the government, hospitals, and the parents of the children that got any higher score than their kids did. They would sue anyone, to get what they wanted. And I guess they did get it too. I guess the government was so fed up with all their yammering and grumbling he took pity on them and doomed us protheticsized people.

The new laws that were put into place three years after my prosthetics were put on go kind of like this. A non-protheticsized child is granted a handicap of fifty percent on all grades. That means that whatever grade they got, plus fifty percent. I would just like to point out again those protheticsized children and adults are just as smart, not more so, than regular people.

Another law is that regular teens and adults going in for a job are given higher priority than protheticsized people with the same or more qualifications. Also there were many smaller bills passed in education and artistic places that anything made by a protheticsized person would automatically be worth less than a regular person. The protheticsized community delved into a world of utter darkness.

I grew up in a world where the small group of regular people would sneer at me, I was always considered lesser. I got straight A pluses and it was always my prosthetics that were doing it, not me. The military got wind of the direr straits of these people that were so strong and didn't tire. They gave out an offer; people that signed up would be paid the now legal less than minimum wage for their services and given food and board. Many really had no choice now. Many were laid off or fired after the bills were passed, so many people signed up, including my parents. I guess no one really read the fine print. All property of those in the army is property of the military, and I guess children are considered belongings of their parent until they are of age. This is almost funny when you think about how much fuss had been kicked up before then on individual human rights.

Well, scientists are always looking for test subjects you can monitor and easily acquired samples of human DNA. I was very valuable to them. My marks were great, I had many talents and they were smart enough to know that those weren't gained from prosthetics. I was their favorite test subject, assassin, and spy. Would you like to hear the start of it all? It's kind of scary, not to me though. They, the scientists, realized I was a big cry baby, "stupid female genes" they would mutter. So now I don't get scared at all or feel pain really well or anything, really. I am the first person that now has prosthetic emotions, which are always turned off. No need to have those pesky emotions always in the way of science, right? The scientists would rather their favorite test subject hide her emotions in that wall she still likes to call her heart.

The reason why the military loves me as much as the scientists is because of our country or rather what our country is now. It took me a year, possibly the shortest conquest of an entire continent that I know of. I was twelve years old at the time and they wanted to send me on my first mission as part of the military instead of as just a test subject. My job was to assassinate the leaders of Mexico, the representative of Greenland, and the President of the United States of America; I succeeded wonderfully. I was sent out again after they had gained control to "control" the rebellions. I guess it's a testament to my honour that everyone has been too scared to launch any more in the past five years. So now I'm hailed as the hero of the new empire the Arctic. I find it a really egotistical name, if anyone would have asked me, but that's what it's now called. It's called the Arctic because it was the Canadian military that has control of me and who has ordered everything. The Arctic's really just their goal though, first they want to conquer the Arctic and then spread outward from there. They only have control of North America right now. But, I guess people did use to say reach for the stars, follow your dreams and all that jazz, didn't they?

But, I'm curious. I may have been the first engineered war fighter, assassin, or whatever it is that they have classified me as, but, others must have tried to do the same. There has to be people out there who are like me. People I can relate to and finally be able to become friends with. I even heard some lab coats talking about it too. I keep hearing small snatches of all these quiet conversations that become hushed when I walk by. These tiny, little, conversations that talk about other people like me. I keep hearing little conversations that talk of governments producing their own indestructible fighters. I suppose I should feel bad for these unknown nameless people, all the testing they'll have to go through. But, at the same time, I think I'm a bit excited. I want to get to meet them. More importantly, I want to be their friend.

I'm the hero of the Arctic Empire but, I am just so bored with my current life. Let's go try and change that a bit, shall we?


	2. America

My first stop was the past United States of America, just because it was so close by. It took me less time to get to than any other country. Time which I needed to disappear from the white coats properly.

It was very close getting there without being caught. I think the notification that I was gone and might be there went out just as I was leaving the airport. The guards looked up from the picture of me flashing across their screens, and I could see the recognition in the security guards eyes. There were four of them surrounding me on three sides. I saw all of them glance down at their little electronic screens in their hands; the information of what to do with me had reached them. I knew it said they were to detain me, possibly even to shoot me if they had to. I booked it. The path to the door was uncovered. I could make it. It was uncomfortable running with a backpack on, it was bouncing up and down and trying to slip down off my shoulders onto my arms, but I made it out the door and onto the streets alright without losing my backpack.

I hailed down a taxi at the same time that another girl did, a blondie like me. Her hair was only slightly darker and was cut short so that it only went to her jawline. Her jacket was pretty weird, she must have gotten it at a thrift store or something. I didn't care. Her clothing choice didn't matter to me. I only had a limited amount of time before those security guards inside the airport burst out of the building to arrest me. I needed the cab. But, she had flagged it down when I had. It was only fair that she could use it too.

"Would we both be able to go? We can both use it." She turned to me. Wow, her eyes were a brilliant bright blue. They were gorgeous. I'd always had a weird habit of just staring at people's eyes. I couldn't help it. Eye colour is absolutely fascinating.

"Sure." Bomber jacket girl said.

Fantastic. I made sure that the bags went in the middle between us, then hopped in; I didn't want to touch her if I could help it. I wasn't going to be sitting that close to her when there were three seats and I could easily just slide into the farther one. She slid in after me. We were on the highway away from the airport and driving quickly. I hadn't given the directions I wanted to go to the driver, she must have given hers first. Whatever, I would go after her then. This was perfect, I didn't want anyone knowing where I was going anyways, even if it was some random girl, the less people that knew where I was going the better. I could wait.

Then the car slowed down and stopped at the edge of the highway. No other vehicles were in sight. The driver turned around to look back at me, a gun clenched tightly in his hand. The aim he had on me was steady, not shaking at all, its sights were set firmly on me.

'How could I have not noticed he was wearing a suit? What taxi driver wears a suit? What normal person wears a suit outside of a dance or a fancy restaurant? I am so stupid.'

The girl had a handgun pointed at me too. A cocky grin spread across her face as she watched me realize what had happened. One of her legs was crossed over the other, her green skirt doing a valiant job of keeping her decent but, just barely. Her entire body language showed that she was gloating. I always hated it when people acted smug like that. The white coats always looked at me like that, like they thought they were better than me. I made up my mind to hurt her at some point in the near future. She was like the white coats.

'God damn it. Why? How was I caught so easily? I didn't even last a day.'

"So, we never did say hi to each other, did we? Hello there Canada. My name is America. I'm just like you, an upgraded form of everyone else. I can regenerate my skin, my prosthetics give me super strength, we're both immortal. Just so you know what you're up against exactly. You have no advantage here. I even have a gun. So, under the authority of the past United States of America I place you under immediate arrest and under my control for the crimes of killing countless people and my country. Your government will not be able to reach you now, you won't be able to kill anyone else, not here and not ever again if we can help it. Whatever you've been planning with them can't be done now. We'll get the information out of you. You're finished. We've defeated you. You can't do anything else."

"So, you're calling me Canada? That's cute. It's nicer than my real name, and makes me slightly patriotic. I'll take it." I paused. "But, are you sure that the Arctic can't touch me? Ever again? You're sure about that?"

The girl's face, no America's face looked a bit puzzled. Did she expect me to blast her with insults and bravado or something? That's strange. Looking at her is like looking at a mirror for some reason. She looks like me. Maybe it's because she looks to be around my age that I'm thinking that?

"Uh, yes."

She sounded uncertain when she said it but, if she was as heroic as she's making herself out to be, she'll keep her word. A promise is a promise. This was wonderful. I grinned.

"Perfect."


	3. Russia

It is so easy to piss someone off when your only answer to any of their questions is a mere smile, especially if you are being questioned in an interrogation room. It can get on people's nerves, but she didn't have to worry about whoever-this-guy-was hurting her. He wouldn't dare. She glanced at the one window stretching across the entire wall beside the table black-suited-guy-questioning-her and she were sitting at.

The girl named America was standing in the corner behind black-suit-guy fuming. She didn't like her unresponsiveness either.

That was fine. Let her get pissed off.

It only took another half hour of her silence before she was hauled back to her solitary confinement cell. And then she was pissed off. Madeleine hated the colour white, it was what all of **them **wore. The damn white-coats. The people here had even been...considerate enough to make sure it was a _padded_ room. Because she was totally considering hurting herself on the...what? corner of the room? Lovely. She'd always wanted a white padded room all to herself. It's good to know that someone finally heard her **deepest **wish.

An explosion rocked the room while she was standing there looking around her new cell making her stumble and fall to one knee. Despite the immaculate condition the room was in, she still stray bits of dust drift down like they were asleep from the ceiling. Another tremor rang through the earth around her, and she could hear screams ring out in the hallway outside her room. Madeleine didn't even bother to look behind her at the small glass window embedded in the sealed door she'd gone through. All she did was shrug.

'Whatever.'

In a fit of whimsy she acted out her thoughts and lifted one of her hands to rest the back or it on her forehead delicately, as if she was checking for her temperature.

'It's their problem.'

Her eyes snapped open from her little melodramatic performance as a realization came to her. That last explosion had sounded much closer to her cell than the first one. She took back what she's thought seconds before; it was definitely not a whatever situation, and it was her problem now.

Had the Arctic found her already?

And she'd been so good and hid so well too. Such a shame that. They'd just wasted all of her hard effort. Bast-. Whatever.

She'd just kill whoever came into her cell.

It didn't take much longer before she became tired of just standing there in the centre of the room ready to launch herself from there and attack. Why wasn't she hearing any more noises? Had the situation been controlled by the Americans? or the Arctic? Where had all the sounds, the explosions, gone? Where **were** they?

She went to sit on her cot, and decided to wait the silence out.

It took ten more minutes before that silence was literally shattered.

The wall by the door to her cell blew apart and rocks went flying everywhere. If the cot she was on was a foot to her left, a block of pavement would have shattered at least some of her bones when it was sent out of the wall by the blast.

At least her cot was far enough away that the smaller fragments of shrapnel didn't make it far enough to hit her, and the bigger pieces, by some miracle, managed to not hit her. Her defense mechanism after her senses picked up what was happening was useless, like shielding her face did anything besides make her look like a scaredy-cat before anyway. It seemed **they** were wrong, they hadn't separated her from that bad habit after all.

Anger clouded her mind. She had hid behind her arms, her only form of protection like she was some weakling. Like she needed protection! She was Canada.

She should be used to being hurt by now.

She shouldn't have hid; she should have taken whatever pain fate decided to give her, just like she always did. She shouldn't have flinched either. She wasn't allowed to flinch.

Nausea gripped her, it only felt fitting, she should have to suffer some discomfort at least for her lack of self-control. It was even more fitting that what sickened her was herself. Seeing as **they** weren't here to do so, she would punish herself more later.

She had to be stronger than this. Nothing was supposed to affect her.

Wait, did she need to be stronger anymore? She was away from the white-coats. The science-talkers couldn't get her now, not anymore not ever if she could hope hard enough with both fingers crossed, unless of course it was them doing the explosions and that had just blasted open the wall leading into her cell. If it was them, well, that would suck rocks.

A figure stepped through the smoke made by the pulverized dust that had been flung up. The figures tall form moved with grace over the strewn rubble. Once the person left the cloud of dust Madeleine still only found out a little bit more. It was a female. Her head was downturned so that all Madeleine could see was her long light blond hair and her long pink winter coat.

The girl planted the shovel she was carrying firmly in the ground and looked up at Madeleine smiling blissfully.

'Like a child expecting a treat. I never did see too many of those though. I was locked up inside too much. That expression looks creepy on her though; it doesn't feel right. Wait a minute, that girl has purple eyes like I do. Isn't that unusual. Strange. What does she want? Why won't she speak? She's just standing there staring at me.'

The girl tipped her head to the side and spoke, "Hello there. It's nice to meet you, yes? My name is Russia. You must be Canada, yes? You sure aren't dressed overly much, are you?" Her eyes raked over Madeleine's form.

The clothes she was given to wear weren't much at all. They were almost form fitting, like fitness clothes. Whoever had given them to her must have been watching too many sci-fi shows. Then again, she was pretty sci-fi herself though, right? That still didn't make the clothes she was given any less awkward to wear. Did all scientist type places have some kind of fetish for putting their human experiments/prisoners in skin tight clothing?

'It's probably to make sure we have nowhere to conceal a weapon if we ever manage to track one down…in a white padded room…without them knowing.'

Canada didn't reply back to anything the girl had said. There was no reason to. The questions were all rhetoric; she had known the answer to all of them.

Madeleine's refusal to answer her didn't seem to bother this Russia person as much as it had America. The girl giggled and covered her mouth with one hand. "It seems like that idiot America got to you first, hm? Oh well, we'll be lifting you off her...or rather their hands. You won't have a problem with that, right? You can even change out of those clothes too. Only if you want to though." Her eyes dropped lower than Canada's eyes. "You don't have to change out of those actually. In fact, keep them on. They're nice. It's all fine."

Russia glanced around, and looked back at the men coming in through the hole in the wall she'd made.

"This her?" One of them asked.

All of their guns were pointed at her. Like a ring of thorns they'd all surrounded her and had her in their sights. All of them were sighting down their barrels at her. One wrong move and all of them would fire. She would die.

Could she die from something like that? from mere bullets? Who knows? Maybe she could, or maybe they made her indestructible. She could still feel pain, sometimes. Maybe this would hurt. Best not to take any chances.

Russia glanced at her. "Oh she definitely is." She said. "We can take her at anytime. **They **have far more important things to worry about right now, don't they? They won't miss her. Stupid Americans. Stupid, stupid, Americans. Letting their captive get away so easily, distracted by their lab being blown up, the idiots."

With the men surrounding her with their guns Canada was escorted out of the room. The girl, Russia, leading the way down the brightly lit hallways.

It didn't matter who she was with, so long as she was away from her white-coats. Now she would be under somebody else's white-coats, but they weren't hers. So everything was fine. Everything would be alright. She would live.

Instead of being about pushing herself to her limits, hurting herself to become stronger, and almost dying everyday like her last goal in life, her new mission would be to live.

She could live like this.

Everything was fine.


	4. Chapter 4

Russia opened the door wide before me with a flourish.

"And this, is your room." She said with a smile.

She was always smiling. It wasn't a playing-nice smile either, meant to fool others. This was a creepy one. She didn't know how to control her features. My opinion of her lowered.

Russia walked to the wooden wardrobe that took up a large portion of the wall that was to Canada's right from where she had stayed standing in the doorway to the room.

"Here are your clothes. If they don't fit you, tell me. Unfortunately, we had to guess for the underwear and bar sizes, seeing as no one has ever actually seen you before and the other clothes' sizes we retrieved from the Americans data bases. They didn't think to include your undergarment sizes though, perhaps they were too embarrassed to put it down? I know not. Well, anyway, your bed you can see.-"

Canada snorted, of course she could see it, the bed was directly in front of the door and was the most prominent feature of the room.

Russia continued, "If you want to look a window, then you'll have to wait for me to accompany you; but, don't worry, I'll be with you most days. You can look then. I'm your assigned body guard while you're here, apparently. **They** believed you would want to escape; but, you won't, now will you?"

The creepy smile was back.

Russia dropped the smile, and her tone became serious. "I think you enjoyed being caught, and I have no idea why. Are you submissive, or something?"

The smile she made this time was more of a sneer than anything.

"I will find out everything about you." Russia hissed.

Without even thinking, Canada's hand shot up to catch Russia's hand before it could pummel her in the head, her other hand following as soon as she had hold of that arm to catch Russia's other arm before she could even start to move to punch her in the gut.

Satisfaction gleamed in Russia's eyes.

"Your senses are fast." Russia said. "That is good." Russia leaned forward to whisper the last bit into Canada's ear. "They will serve you well while you are here."

Russia leaned back, and seemed like she was going to say something else before she simply glared at Canada and left the room. The door clicked as it locked a few seconds later.

So, Russia had given her a clue, she would be tested while she was here, and she was, most likely, being monitored.

'Lovely.'

Canada didn't break blank expression as she walked to the side of the bed in front of her and climbed on top, taking the blankets and pillows on it and messing them up into a small cozy nest before crawling underneath, and started counting her breathing out to relax and fall asleep as soon as she could.

Her breathing exercises always worked. She didn't wake up until she heard the lock click open on her door a few hours afterward.

Her eyes flew open, and she realized that the lights had been switched off in the room at some point after she had fallen asleep, she wouldn't be able to see who was coming into the room, and whoever was watching the camera monitoring her room wouldn't be able to tell that she was awake.

In the few seconds between the door clicking open, and the door opening, Canada decided to play at being asleep so she could perhaps have the element of surprise on her side instead of her, likely, assailant's side.

She resumed her breathing exercises to make it seem like her breathing was even, deep, and quiet, and heard the unknown person creep forward to the side of her bed thinking that she was still asleep.

* * *

Sorry this is so short.


End file.
